


Not Quite Home

by ithappenedonenight



Category: Primeval
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithappenedonenight/pseuds/ithappenedonenight
Summary: Connor realizes that being back isn't quite the same as being home.  Set at the end of S04E01.





	Not Quite Home

**Author's Note:**

> Recently discovered Primeval on Prime, so am a little late to the party. Trying to make up for it with gusto.

He was supposed to be sleeping. Abby had finally managed to drift back off again. But he couldn’t. It didn’t feel right. The flat was both too loud and too quiet, all at once. 

He’d heard stories of course. Could even drag up a DSM-5 diagnosis, if pressed. His friend Morgan’s grandad had fought in the Great War - or was it the war after that? Maybe it was been both. There certainly were a lot of Germans involved. Bampi wasn’t like other grandparents. He smelled of antiseptic and mildew and had a deep red line running up his cheek to the place where an eye was supposed to be. But the old man had chocolate. In exchange for a half a candy bar every Saturday, Morgan and Connor were treated to a series of battle stories that got bigger and bloodier with each foil wrapper. 

Once, on a particularly grey day where the rain was going sideways, Bamps finished the story looking outside at something that neither little boy could see.

“Part of me is still out there,” he muttered. “And never will be home.” Connor had assumed that he was talking about the missing eyeball, and the thought of errant wanderlusting body parts, combined with a late night B-movie marathon, quickly blossomed into a full-fledged zombie phobia. It wasn’t until much later, stuck in some high school history class, that those words truly started to make sense. While the teacher droned on about the challenges British soldiers faced after the war, Connor kept seeing Bampi’s awkward, out-of-place face.

Connor gave up on sleep. Maybe fresh air would make it better? 

It didn’t. 

He paced around the flat and wondered if soon he too would be trading stories for sweets, in a bid to bridge the gap between this reality and his own. His bare feet making rhythmic thuds as they collided with the sterile metal of the floor, punctuating each thought with a step. Connor was back in London. _Thud._ He was safe. _Thud._ In the present. _Thud. Thud. Thud._

After one year and six near-death experiences, both he and Abby were finally home - this was good, right? But it wasn’t home, not really. It wasn’t their flat. There was no Rex chittering at him from a corner. Sid and Nancy weren’t happily decimating one of his favorite vests. And now Danny and Sarah were two more names that he’d never see pop up on his caller ID.

Abby caught his fingertips on his seventh loop around the room, tethering him in place. 

“Hey,” she said. He met her eyes, and forced his consciousness to swim back from the deep dark places where no good things lurk.

“Hey,” he said back, the corners of his mouth turning up instinctively. The forced smile was quickly replaced by a real one, echoed and then reciprocated. There they stood, grinning, hands interlaced - the one constant that neither time nor space nor grief could break. 

“We’re here,” she said simply. And as always, she was right. 

_Fin._


End file.
